Cold Freaking Days Are Coming

My restless mind is working hard,
yet nothing makes sence,
not by far.

Confusion and fear own my thoughts,
I wish, I wish I could make them stop.

So difficult, so strange
New questions all over my head.

Why now? Why me?
What's the anwer? What do you want me to be?

Am I this? Am I that?
What the hell? Just tell me what.

Im sick and tired of trying to figure it out.
Just let me be, with or without.

Sometimes I think I know, sometimes I don't.
Inside my head, white snow, inside my heart: please make it stop.